Sunday, wearing turbans, and all other enormities, and lead them to
live in the country, giving a continual course of school feasts, and
surprising meritorious families with gifts of cows. She only wished
she had a pencil to draw it all to show Sylvia, provided Sylvia would
know her cows from her tables.

After more vain attempts at chatter, and various stops at stations,
Mr. Wardour bought a story-book for her; and thus brought her to a
most happy state of silent content, which lasted till the house roofs
of London began to rise on either side of the railway.

Among the carriages that were waiting at the terminus was a small
brougham, very neat and shiny; and a servant came up and touched his
hat, opening the door for Kate, who was told to sit there while the
servant and Mr. Wardour looked for the luggage. She was a little
disappointed. She had once seen a carriage go by with four horses,
and a single one did not seem at all worthy of her; but she had two
chapters more of her story to read, and was so eager to see the end
of it, that Mr. Wardour could hardly persuade her to look out and see
the Thames when she passed over it, nor the Houses of Parliament and
the towers of Westminster Abbey.

At last, while passing through the brighter and more crowded streets,
Kate having satisfied herself what had become of the personages of
her story, looked up, and saw nothing but dull houses of blackened
cream colour; and presently found the carriage stopping at the door
of one.

"Is it here, Papa?" she said, suddenly seized with fright.